


Not A Peaceful Time

by BiesFromWildland



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, canon-typical weirdness, post episode 160
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:48:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24737191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BiesFromWildland/pseuds/BiesFromWildland
Summary: The apocalypse happened. There were many ways they could prevent it, but now it was too late. Pretending it didn’t happen made no sense. All they could do was to hide. And they did for so long.aka Jon and Martin try to still exist somehow.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 10
Kudos: 42





	Not A Peaceful Time

**Author's Note:**

> i started writing it right after the mag 161 dropped and then wrote some more after mag 162 but then was kinda scared to actually post it and forgot about it for two months. but now i decided that eh, whatever ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ so yea, enjoy.

The apocalypse happened. There were many ways they could prevent it, but now it was too late. Pretending it didn’t happen made no sense. All they could do was to hide. And they did for so long.

* * *

The first days after the apocalypse they tried to function _somehow._ The doors were closed, the windows shut completely. Daisy’s cottage was fully equipped to last one’s needs for a long time.

Jon was tired of not being able to cry. He was tired of not sleeping, and tired of feeling _exhilarated_ by the fears he was experiencing. He wished it would make him feel bad. But it didn’t so instead he just tried to make his mind busy.

“Martin? Martin, I made you tea,” he said, going into the living room.

Martin was not there. He went to their bedroom. Martin was not there. In the bathroom? In the kitchen somehow? No. Jon found Martin curled up in the pantry, _the darkest_ and most isolated of the rooms.

“Martin, you…”

“Jon. Don’t look at me.”

And Jon tried. But he didn’t need eyes to see anymore.

* * *

Martin was there. Martin wasn’t there. Jon was there? Martin was sure Jon was there. Jon was always there, always with his tapes. Martin knew Jon was there. Martin was almost capable of seeing Jon. But sometimes there was fog. And the fog was making his eyelids so heavy, and his head so empty, he wasn't capable of reaching Jon. He could sit next to him and be unable to feel like he was with someone else.

And Martin was only hoping he was still in the cottage.

* * *

“The things are not how they used to be,” said Jon quietly, barely audibly, his face pushed into Martin’s chest. “I can see everything now, and I am so, so sorry.”

It was almost like he was fighting with himself to say it, to be able to say anything.

“It’s alright Jon, it’s not-”

“No, you don’t get it. _I’m sorry._ For everything. I was a bad man. To everybody. To _you_. And, and I treated you… I… I’m so sorry.”

Martin did not answer. Jon didn’t need an answer. He could see Martin’s fears. And he could only hope that this would make go away at least one of them.

* * *

Martin never screamed in his sleep. Not even flinched. Someone could describe it as emotionless and distant. Jon wished he could describe it as _peaceful._

* * *

They did not talk a lot. Martin tried to start conversations, but they ended quickly. Jon didn’t want to argue. He didn’t want to kill the spirit that Martin still had. But in a way he knew this was exactly what he was doing.

They had talked a lot before the world ended. They put effort into _trying_ to know each other better. Telling each other small stories from childhood. Discussing sheep, cows, cats, dogs. Avoiding topics of The Archives. Ignoring that Jon still needed to feed. Not talking about things that were actually important.

Jon wished he could change the past at least a little bit. Just enough to fit in there just a bit of… Of something. Something more important than the empty words they exchanged. Something of meaning. Something he could turn his mind towards and think “this is the one thing I did correctly”.

There was no such thing he could think of.

* * *

The first time Jon said “I love you” was after the apocalypse. They were sitting in a corner of the room, cuddled together, and Martin was crying. Jon didn’t know what to do. He was not a crying person, and he was not a people’s person. Somehow he lived his life not needing to comfort even a single crying person until that moment.

What he could do was to focus. There wasn’t a way to switch of his powers. But there was a way to look at Martin and to _see._ And would it make a difference in this state of being?

“I love you,” he said, slowly, with a weight to his words. It was hard to say, it was weird to hear. They both were aware of their feelings, but to have them spoken so clearly… It stopped Martin from crying.

“You do?”

“I do.”

Martin started crying even harder. Maybe it wasn’t the best moment to say it, but when Martin had fallen asleep from exhaustion, his dreams were deprived of one of their usual elements.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://bies-from-wildland.tumblr.com/) and [twitter!](https://twitter.com/WildBies)


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